Nine Tales of Lu
by PenofOneAnswer712
Summary: Little did he know that the day met her, would be enough to change his life forever. Being called to be his reflection, her wrongs would soon perfect him. For this time, in this life, at this very hour, here follows the sessions of Dr. Prower.
1. Session 0: My name is…

***PenofOneAnswer819 does not claim rights to any Sega Enterprises or Sonic Team patented characters or material presented within this work of fan-based fiction: All copyrights reserved for the rightful and respective owners.***

PoA: So I had this idea coming back from QT,

Metal: No…

PoA: I imagined someone talking to me about me, and how I might see myself if I wasn't myself.

Metal: Holy Phrik…

PoA: I mean about life; my life, and how they would have lived it if I hadn't lived it.

Metal: We're really doing this…

PoA: So I scribbled down this idea, and…

Metal: PEN!

PoA: What? No need to shout.

Metal: Nobody talks to you.

PoA: What's that supposed to me‒

PetAl: Because they're not really there.

Solver: And we're not really here.

PetolvAr: None of this is real.

PoA: …?

PetolvAr: P-en, we are y-o-u, and you A-re us.

 **-l-**

 **Nine Tales of Lu**

 **Session 0: My name is…**

 **-l-**

"Dr. Prower,

As per your request, I have scheduled a formal meeting with your client at 4:00 PM MST (Mystic Standard). You are to meet her in front of the Eclipse Regalia Café on the hour alone. No onsite training assistants in compliance with our agreement.

On a personal note, I have to wonder: Why the secrecy and dramatic choice of location? I have no qualms about lending a hand, but I find setting up a pseudo-romantic excursion with a client to be... Well, let's be nice and say, "unbecoming" of your reputation. Feeling a bit lonely?

Sincerely, Dr. Childs"

‒

"Dr. Childs,

Thank you for your timely correspondence. I have already contacted Ms. Kinglas and confirmed our arrangements. I only hope that you were less forward with her than you have been with me.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower"

‒

"Dr. Prower,

It's not my place to be invasive, but I'm sure you're well aware of how difficult it is to keep things like this from spinning out of control. The network is no secure place for scandalous and suggestive behavior; no matter how mild the implications may be. I'm simply looking after your good name and my career, despite the lousy 80K pay.

Courageously, Dr. Childs"

‒

"Dr Childs,

Please refrain from making jokes stirring up slander over a business email. In compliance with my client's wishes, I have taken the appropriate measures to ensure mutual trust is held. As you know, information regarding my client's personal wishes is strictly protected by our privacy policy. Inquires are to be denied unless written consent is voluntarily procured.

Cordially, Dr Prower"

‒

"Dr. Prower,

You can leave the gossip hens to me, but consider our chat to be a concerned friend offering another friend a piece of advice. These sessions you hold are intended to provide comfort and direction for the emotionally distraught; I feel this takes some liberties with notion of "comfort". Trust me ‒ attractive offers like these turn ugly in the long stretch. Just look at me and my ex.

Say, how about some good old fashioned dating advice? You can't love what you can't see. Where's there's a cloud, there's always rain. Behind the dream, there hides the pain.

Casually, Dr. Childs"

‒

"Dr. Childs,

Your marital disputes and poorly poetic offers do not relate to the topic at hand. Consider this discussion closed.

Sternly, Dr Prower

‒

He switched the screen off with a mild look of disappointment. Though normally kind and calm, Miles was up to his eyes in these kinds of messages from his coworkers. He expected better of them in ways he knew he shouldn't. Still sensitive at heart, it also left him sad to see how caustic his last words had been.

It was not all his fault. Dr. Heisman Childs was a man of promiscuous speech and manner. Intentionally or not, his words tended to come out as wrongly suggestive. Miles felt it had something to do with his unnerving demeanor; not to mention that Dr. Childs had an uncanny habit of popping up at the most uncomfortable times; to give equally uncomforting "advice". Thus, Miles had the common sense to never be fully upfront with the strange, middle-aged lion.

Reclining in his chair, Miles felt exhausted over the day's events. He thought about his latest client: Her medical profile stated that she had been on a fair assortment of anti-depressants in the past. Thankfully, she had no history of attempted suicide or any recorded incident of self-harm to speak of. It seemed that she would be a relatively easy case to cover. With some counseling, a daily living plan, mental exercises, or therapy if necessary, she would be right as rain, as the saying goes.

Reflecting on that last thought, the fox took back any sense of bravado. Cases that seemed the easiest often became wildly difficult without warning. It was the sort of thing he had come to expect in this new field of work; a field he had never expected to be a part of in the first place.

To think it all started out as a mission; a small, friendly favor and nothing more.

"Sonic." He murmured softly, looking over the simple black framed photo resting on his coffee table. He smiled back the friendly blue hedgehog, who seemed no less cheerful than on the day they first met.

Having watched him, the man behind that famous smile, come clean with his past trauma, Tails felt his last mission with his best friend − though not dangerously exciting − had been an amazing experience. Who knew someone like Sonic could have had so-called daddy issues? Being separated from a father figure was a difficult matter, Tails knew firsthand. This went double for any teen growing into adulthood. Yet, finding that same parent in such a ghastly state and condition, was another morbid thing altogether.

Regardless, the sight and incident had set Tails on a new path, and right in time. For before their mission, Miles had started to show a shockingly dark fascination for machinery.

He had felt it, ever since he had thrown the fuse on his first, AI-driven robotic weapon; a sense of power, so overwhelming that took him in with seductive persistence. Even after it went haywire, even after Sonic destroyed his masterpiece, even after the chastising he received, Tails began to fantasize and entertain darker uses for the hidden skills he possessed. With the full extent of his knowhow untapped, he considered the kind of supremacy he could one day hold over his enemies, over his friends, and eventually, over the entire world. It was a sickening allure that grew and grew until it almost drove him insane. It had slowly pushed him into leading a sequestered lifestyle, far away from the compassion of his dearest friends.

His mind was abruptly changed on day he would never forget: The day he saw his brother's father, bodily bound inside a metallic prison. At first, Sonic had mistaken the abomination for another cheaply crafted replica of himself, until he heard the injured metal hedgehog speak. The creature seemed to know things about Sonic no one else ‒ not Eggman, not Amy, not even Tails himself ‒ could account for. Names of people without faces poured from the somber machine's crudely forged mouth, in a quiet attempt to get the shaken up hero to understand.

For Tails, the rest of the memory was a mass of tears and denial, as the reunion soon became as awkward as it was heartwarming.

Listening to Sonic after the incident, Tails felt he was talking to a complete stranger. Living without a father had been normal for the young hero, but having him back now was, at first, a more damaging than healing experience. Apparently, Jules too, in his mental and physical enslavement, had grown so accustomed to a life without his son that he had nearly given up hope.

This was when it struck Tails:. The things he had been neglecting, the people he loved as family, were the real impetus behind his creations. Remembering, in that small mission, why he had agreed to help Sonic even after several months of separation, Tails took up his tools and worked fast. He had forgotten what it was like to help others; the feeling of using his craft to do good for his friends. True to his old self, he once again used his real genius for it's true purpose.

Years passed, a long eight whole years later, and he still had no regrets regarding that day.

Indeed, it had been earth-shattering on all sides, but in the end, father and son reconciled via a much needed dose of intervention from friends. Somehow, it had served the two well. Sadly, even Tails could not spare his father more than a year. When Jules finally did pass away, Sonic the Hedgehog found himself in a new stage of life: He no longer needed his rivalry Eggman, and soon after, much to Tails' surprise, he found himself side by side with someone who truly changed him as a person, but that's a another story.

Seeing Sonic mellowed out would have sounded boring to a younger Tails, but for the adult Miles, it was a inspiring experience to see his friend become whole again.

Of course, Miles had not been so fortunate. Living with the loss of his father and mother at a time before he could form decent memories, was a deficit that would follow him throughout his life. Despite the loss, there were times Tails would still dream of them, imagining how they would look if they were still with him today. This void left him wondering how his life would have panned out without Sonic's guidance. Truthfully, while many people had suffered in like fashion, few were so blessed as Tails had been. He had friends, friends who loved him like family, and a newfound purpose to help others like he had helped Sonic.

Realizing this, he felt his drive reignite. He gradually fell back in love with the people he had protected as a child, and the smorgasbord of friends he had grown up with. His passion for all things oily, greasy, robotic, and synthetic had not faded, but merely took a healthier backseat within his fantastic mind.

Eventually, Tails decided to harness both his personal deficits, and the healing he had helped Sonic achieve. As a result, he had, with proper training and education, become a fairly proficient counselor; a position further helped by his "eternally youthful" appearance and gentlemanly demeanor. People were both put off and relaxed by the kind, puffy cheeked fox doctor offering them lucid, albeit stern, advice and strategies for better living. For one who once had trouble knowing when to use small words or simply shut up, Miles had grown fond of letting others speak while encouraging practical change.

Ultimately, the fox found himself here, reclining in his seat while thinking over his odd career choice. He certainly wanted to help others, but oh how the nagging of his colleagues could tire him out. These cocksure crazies could cost any normal person their sanity, assuming anyone bothered to listen to the gossip of these twenty to sixty year old "professionals". Smart as they were, good at their jobs though they could be, a large number were overcompensating blowhards with egos that could make Sonic and Shadow jealous.

Back on the matter at hand, his client, Ms. Kinglas was causing quite an uproar in his department. All of the workplace madness aside, even creepers like Dr. Childs probably had his best interests at heart, but Miles understood the risk he was taking in meeting a stranger; even in a relatively busy side of town. His clients had invited him over to their personal places of residence in the past, but this was indeed the first time he had agreed to meet one them in a café alone.

"Maybe Childs had a point." Tails wondered reluctantly. Precautious as he was, the meeting had to be on the client's terms, barring some safety and legal protocol. The way Miles saw it, he was the one being interviewed by them; to see if he could provide suitable care. Assuming any client found his work unsatisfactory, they or vouching family members would be encouraged to remove him as the client's care provider.

Still, even with the place of meeting in their hands, the first time was always the hardest for most people. This was especially true for those who feared being treated or regarded as "patients". This came with a kind of stigmatizing connotation, and thus Miles chose to gently, but somewhat professionally, refer to them as his "clients" instead. This could change on a dime, depending on the person of course, as almost everybody had a preference.

Yet, that simple fact made one detail of his current case stand out.

His latest client, Lucy Kinglas by her full name, shared no interest or preference of any kind. As he recalled, she had spoken without concrete mention of her past, but had assured him that their discussion would not be a waste of his time. This led him to initially wonder if she was the type to pretend personal ambivalence, or if she was simply being very matter-of-fact. Miles held various kinds of thoughts about their eventual meeting all day: From the time he left his chair to eat breakfast, to the moment he stepped out his front door to go meet her. He tried to take in his bubbling curiosity with a cool head. He knew it was going to be harder than he thought, but less dramatic than the expectations of his coworkers.

Both were in fact wrong, when at last he met her face to face.

"Mr. Prower, I presume?" She asked upon seeing him approach her with a friendly smile. She lightly returned the gesture, but left little to be expressed in her distant brown eyes.

"My name is Lucy Kinglas. Are you ready for your session?"

-l-

End of Chapter 1

-l-

This is a semi short series I might be able to manage, given new time constraints. It's been a while, but I hope everyone had a Happy New Year's Eve / Day!

Until next time.


	2. Session 1: Know me, know you

***PenofOneAnswer819 does not claim rights to any Sega Enterprises or Sonic Team patented characters or material presented within this work of fan-based fiction: All copyright reserved for the rightful and respective owners.***

PoA: **Dark themes ahead: Mentions of suicide included below. You have been warned.**

PetolvAr: What is so, we shall see. What has been, will always be. You cannot bury the past with me.

PoA: Wanting change, while staying the same; asking for both, but pursuing neither. This is how to walk the road to nowhere.

 **-l-**

 **Nine Tales of Lu**

 **Session 1: Know me, know you**

 **-l-**

"Dr. Prower,

Just as a reminder, you need to complete the required follow-up paperwork for your most recently attended case. What was your client's name again? Ms. Kinglas? Understand, Dr. Prower, this is why we need to keep our records up to date.

Cordially, Mrs. Puschker"

‒

"Mrs. Puschker,

Sorry, but a follow-up can wait until after my second session with Ms. Kinglas. By the way, did you get the memo about rescheduling my other two clients to the eighteenth and twenty-fourth of October?

Sincerely, Dr. Prower"

‒

"Dr. Prower,

I have already updated the system as per your arrangements. I must remind you that last minute changes like these violate our principles of best practice. A two week notice in advance is guaranteed, and clients expect it from us.

While on the topic of appointments, Mr. Dubical has filed another lawsuit against you regarding the dissolution of his marriage. He stated something about seeing you in the parking lot with this third wife, or whatever the latest gossip is. I respect you enough to believe that his dubious claims do not have merit.

Cordially, Mrs. Puschker"

‒

"Mrs. Puschker,

That'll be the fourth time this year. It's been two months since he claimed I set his house on fire due to an unpaid water bill, so you tell me. Regardless, I'm well aware, but thank you for the update. The misadventures of Ted E. " _Debacle"_ aside, I have personally contacted both clients and informed them of the sudden changes. My meetings with Ms. Kinglas do take precedence.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower

‒

"Dr. Prower,

Please excuse my rudeness, Dr. Prower, but rules are facilitated to assure that optimal care is met. In short, they are not to be taken lightly. Keep treating corporate leniency as expendably as your clients, and we may well lose both.

Cordially, Mrs. Puschker"

‒

"Mrs. Puschker,

I too ask that you pardon my informality, but relax, Penny. I know how to manage my work schedule. Textbook matter and clerical numbers are only so relative to individual care. That being said, you are right in never violating protocol. It's tried and true for a reason.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower"

‒

"Dr. Prower,

I hope you're considering risks you've been taking.

Cordially, Mrs. Pushker

P.S. Pencielle, if you don't mind."

‒

Closing the screen down, Miles sighed as his head throbbed over last night's swell of stressful events. Fingering the edge of his screen, his stomach tightened slightly. His thoughts were a cluttered mess of emails and questions regarding Ms. Kinglas. These questions, along with his growing apprehension, were no easier to digest than last night's supper.

Half processed worries and food aside, his curiosity grew in anticipation of their next meeting. Tense bowels needing release, he scurried off to his rather pristine restroom. If only nature calls could resolve more than his stomach's share of stressors.

The spotless mirror showed two weary rings starting to form underneath his sagging eyelids. Splashing water over his face, the warnings of his secretary and friends continued to ring in his throbbing head.

 _"I hope you're considering the risks you've been taking."_

"I hope I am too, Penny." Closing the cabinet, he swallowed his only key to artificial sleep, and switched the lights off.

L

*Yesterday Evening*

L

Miles had anticipated having a difficult time. No, maybe it was a welcome surprise. In his line of work, there were plenty of worse possible scenarios. At a minimum, a case involving role-reversing right off the bat would not be boring to say the least.

By his recollection, her case file did mention her history of avoiding professional help. That said, if she was fearful, it was notably less prominent in person. Acting as his counselor might be a clever means for Lucy to express her feelings.

He could already see signs of masked intentions in her mannerisms. As quirks go, they were fairly commonplace and muted: The occasional nervous brushing of the hair, palms closed, and arms often crossed, each accompanied by an icy stare that studied his every move. These in person gestures contained elements of scrutiny and curiosity, as well as fear and apprehension.

Wanting to ease the tension, Miles offered his hand in genuine respect after formally introducing himself. She nodded but refused to reciprocate with any personal contact. This was fine; a perfectly normal level of distrust for a new client to have. Miles was sure these guards would come down in time.

Still, somehow, somewhere in the pit of his gut, he feared that he was missing something critical about this woman. It was one thing to be born and "raised" a bit introverted, but unlike him, she definitely had mastered the art of hiding in plain sight; emotionally speaking, she was going to be hard to read.

"I've tried it the easy way before." She blurted out of the blue, startling the two-tailed fox enough that he paid her full attention.

She cupped her head in her left hand and continued "You've had to do this too, no? The long pauses, the nods of understanding, the kind of hand-on-your-chest sympathy that many people illogically find comforting." Lucy's eyes fluttered and rolled in supreme annoyance; she traced the rim of her glass with an irritable, clawing gesture.

Beginning to understand her aversion towards psychiatric stereotypes, Miles voted against formulating any more ideas, despite having a good idea where the conversation was going. He knew it was best to let people reveal the truth for themselves, only probing for hints if necessary. Cautious as this lady was being, forcing answers would not help.

With that thought in mind, he gave a single firm nod. Rubbing his chest in an unintentional show of awkwardness, he decided to ask "You've had sessions before, Ms. Kinglas?"

She paused, and then started laughing unexpectedly. Seemingly aware that the fox doctor had missed his cue, Lucy's smile quickly dissolved, segueing into an explanation "You're a record, Mr. Prower. I suppose that naivety of yours is somewhat charming."

Drinking from her glass without more than an indifferent shrug to Tails' oblivious surprise, she stared him down once again. Miles noted a newly sympathetic look in her eyes as she spoke "You mean well, I'm sure. I admit, I can be a bit difficult at times, but I agreed to have this meeting for a reason: What I have to say is important. I hope through these sessions you will be able to face the truth about yourself. I only warn you that it will be very painful. Are you still sure you want to hear me out?"

Not too sure as to what she meant, Miles still kept to the task and smiled "Whenever you're ready."

"Well, you've had your warning." She cautioned, before taking a deep breath. She then sat near the drawn window, almost huddled in the corner like a child or scared dog. She then raised her tail into sight. Confused, only for a moment, Miles watched as she revealed her secret: One, then two, all the way up to four.

Internally breathing a massive sigh of relief, Miles replied casually "Hmm, fancy that." A charming smile, not unlike Sonic's own, crossed his lips. Admittedly, she almost had him nervous, but with her "big bad" secret out, the doctor felt his calm starting to return "Lovely sheen. You must take good care of them."

Now Lucy was the one utterly bewildered this time. She shot him a look of shock; her tone hugging the borderline of disdain ""Lovely sheen"? I suppose you I didn't make myself clear. Do you know what these are?"

"A curse." Tails replied flatly, no longer trying to play counselor. Feeling oddly relaxed after her revelation, he revealed his own two tails; a mix of disgust and acceptance profaning his innocent features "The kind of curse that separates you from your friends, family, and ruins any sense of normalcy in your life. I wish it stopped at being a deformity, but these things mark our kind: From what I've studied, we all have similar "gifts". I found that out the hard way, a few years back."

He saw her ridged fur and shoulders ease over, before she swirled her four tails up into a single bundle again. Returning to her glass, he could see her tense expression reflected on its distorted surface "Miles, do you know what people say about us? They call us tricksters, liars. Some even treat and refer to us as demons; as the demons we really are."

"As you said, we're only _treated_ as demons." He corrected, curtly and almost too hastily for his own liking "Anyone can be evil − gifted or not − so the exceptionally gifted can naturally be exceptionally evil. I have a few friends who can sympathize with that."

At this, she shot him a glare; this time, not one of blended emotions, but one of raw, unfettered intensity "And how many of these "friends" of yours are still alive? No, rather, how long have you been alive?"

Stunned, but taking her meaning in rapidly, Tails did not like where this was going. He knew what she was comparing herself to, and it could be classified as escapism, a serious case of it. In any case, he had heard the legends before. With all he had seen throughout his life, it would not be an impossible stretch, but the likelihood of her being the real deal just felt off.

Noting that her question had gone unanswered, Lucy sighed and continued "You know what I'm talking about, and I may seem like I'm overreacting, but Miles, can I tell you the truth?" Her new question had pulled him out of this daze long enough for him to nod, allowing her to admit "It's only a lady's place to say, and I'll tell you: I'm over a hundred years old. I'm one hundred and twenty four, born July 7, 1943, to be exact."

Pausing for a moment, Tails blinked, almost not responding to her claims. Not only did it seem ridiculous, but it made him start to wonder if he had been entertaining someone with a more serious disorder. Unless this was just her way of coping with her natural quirks, as he hoped it was...

Knowing he had slid off topic, Tails did understand one thing very well: Being hated, being called a monster, especially being treated like one was irreversibly traumatic. Having been fortunate enough to know Sonic, Tails considered how lucky he was. He had no idea the level of abuse this lady had suffered from.

Lucy, seeing his distrustful expression, sighed before producing from her bag a heavily faded, but otherwise well-preserved passport. The name and photo, barring minor changes, matched; the date read October 17, 1968.

Unconvinced, even more so than before, Tails chose to humor the obviously forged document and photograph, at least for the time being. He realized that this woman might be a security risk, even a person of interest to the authorities. Nevertheless, he remained unperturbed, convinced that he could handle himself if the situation came to any hostility. Perhaps a more thorough background check was in order. Thankfully, she seemed comfortable enough to keep talking, especially after he accepted her "proof" as authentic.

At any rate, he felt listening to her was still the best option.

"I know, it's hard to believe, but you won't have to." She warned, trying her best to restore any lost composure "In time, you'll start to see for yourself. Still, while we're here, like this, I guess you'd like to hear about my past. Unless, of course, you've changed your mind?" She asked, a hopeful shiver hidden beneath her firm tone.

Curious, now more than ever, Miles, hands and arms draped over both elbows, nodded welcomingly "No, by all means, please continue."

Taking in a deep breath, Lucy sighed rather lightly as she began.

"I was born to a rather gifted family. Not wealthy, well, not exactly. My brothers and sisters were all lessoned in the arts: Acting, painting, writing, singing, you name it. Back then, my family was called the Kingston family."

Raising his eyebrow slightly, Tails interjected, his words laced with humor and suspicion ""Kingston"? That... would explain a lot."

"No relation." She dismissed him with something of a half eye-roll, either noticing his distrust or brushing off his failed attempt to make her smile "No, we never enjoyed much success, but my father insisted that we all attend Empire University, back when that level of education actually counted for something."

"Hmm, Empire City University?" Miles recounted from memory, already snagging onto to something odd "Wasn't it referred to as York State University back then?"

Not even slightly flustered by his catch, Ms. Kinglas nodded calmly in reply "The same. My father's alma mater, where he received both his Doctorate in Musical Arts, and M.A. in World History degrees. It seemed right for all of us to follow in our father's footsteps. My brothers were both enrolled around the time I was born."

"You came rather late into the family?" Miles noted, sipping from his glass.

"Yes." Lucy admitted, solemnly it seemed as she shut her eyes, as if to block out a painful memory "My mother did not expect it; she did not expect _me_. At her age, it was unlikely, even unhealthy to have a child."

Seeing Tails' eyes widen slightly, she sighed and cut off his potential question "No, she didn't die, but both my parents would eventually wish _I_ had."

"Why?" The two-tailed fox asked the obvious question, unable to see any dots connecting in her story.

"You see, my father, and mother too, were both very superstitious people." Lucy explained, trying very hard to look Tails dead in the eyes as she explained "Not just superstitious. They were convinced that my birth was an ill omen for the family. It started when my eldest brother, seven years in and seemingly bound for a secure future, suddenly dropped out of the university. My father found out he had run off with a girl he had met. This would have been fine, had the same girl not been a barfly, and worse, one that convinced him to do the unthinkable, apparently to prove his affections for her."

"Dropping out wasn't enough?" Miles pondered aloud, scratching his chin as he tried to puzzle out her story "So, what did she ask him to do?"

"According to him? Rob a bank." Lucy said dryly, thinking over the memory with a sickened scowl "I don't even know if that part was true. For all we know, my brother could've just been monetarily desperate enough to try something so stupid. I don't know how much this girl was involved, or how much of this story of his story I believe. I was too young at the time, but I did eventually find out that my brother, in all his despair, took his own life two years after he dropped out. I was just turning nine when it happened."

"My God." The fox doctor blurted out, almost unthinkingly. The more he caught on to her tone and clarity of details, the more he became convinced that this story, at least parts of it, weren't fabricated at all. Recent years of study had given him a sharp eye for the lying types, and even a sense for those suffering from a false memory. Lucy's story did not strike him as either, but regaining his composure, he caught himself and said "I apologize, Ms. Kinglas. Go on."

Stone cold as ever, only small vocal tremors alluded to Lucy's true feelings "C'est la vie, as they say. It wasn't my fault. My being born had nothing to do with what happened to him. I couldn't tell my parents that though, no, not after _this_ wretched thing appeared." Here, she grabbed hold of a very specific tail with a tight squeeze "It was fast too. It only took three months for this thing to match the other in size. It started growing a week after his funeral."

Both foxes had not noticed the waiter, now impatiently looking them over. Oblivious to their conversation, the well-dressed rat merely bowed with an audible groan after being sent away. He left, but not before muttering something akin to "Talking to oneself while being spoken to? And they say mice are blind."

Distracted, but notably less tense, Lucy seemed almost glad for the interruption. At least, it had provided the perfect excuse for her to return to silence.

Noting her quiet discomfort, Tails figured that now might be good time to call it. Eager to know more as he was, he knew it would take time. He could not weed out which parts of her broken tale were true yet, and so a bit of investigating was now in order.

Realizing he still had to be wary of her, Tails nonetheless found it in his overly warm heart to make his suggestion as softly as possible "Lucy, we can stop here if you want."

She looked up at him, a rather frightening hollowness in her distant eyes. Frigid as an icicle, she returned his comforting gaze and answered "For now, yes. Whenever you decide is best. The sooner the better though, if you want to learn the truth."

-l-

End of Chapter 2

-l-

I suppose it isn't polite to disgrace family, but brothers who make mistakes, even fatal ones, often teach us valuable lessons. At any rate, mine served to inspire Lucy's background story.

As a hint for those worried about the kitsune cliché, I will say this: Even in this story, the kitsune are mythological, or quite simply, fake. That's all for now.

Until next time.


	3. Session 2: Lost Memories

***PenofOneAnswer819 does not claim rights to any Sega Enterprises or Sonic Team patented characters or material presented within this work of fan-based fiction: All copyright reserved for the rightful and respective owners.***

PoA: Wouldn't this be considered an unselfish act?

PetolvAr: There is no such thing as an unselfish act. Even disdain for self and concern outside of self are selfish thoughts because they serve the will of self. No one can be "selfless".

 **-l-**

 **Nine Tales of Lu**

 **Session 2: Lost Memories**

 **-l-**

"Dr. Stone,

I received the memo last Thursday, same time as everyone else. I called clerical and told them I would be absent for my appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Totter three weeks in advance. I understand we are shorthanded, but I took the Kinglas case before had even spoken with the Totters.

As it stands, the Kinglas case is my first priority.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower"

"Dear Dr. Prower,

Assuming I completely ignore the legally unorthodox, I should say "environments", in which you choose to hold your sessions, I suggest you keep your word to your clients. When you tell the president you will meet him at such and such a time, do you make other arrangements at the last minute? All other appointments are booked. We also have some interns coming in that require shadowing. We don't have time to cover your appointment.

Keep up this behavior, and you won't have any clients at all before long.

Sincerely, Dr. Stone"

"Dr. Stone,

I'm not doing this with you right now, Setton. You send out those memos about case negligence, even when you have a surplus of able bodied staff on hand. My appointment with the Totters is not an official case; it's merely an introduction and some paperwork. I was given their appointment because you didn't want to assign anyone from day shift to cover it.

In other words, they aren't my clients, whereas Ms. Kinglas is. Even if you should find my methods questionable, they are undoubtedly more effective than the "sit on the couch" motif of intrapersonal paranoia you and your trainees employ. You fear your clients, and so you charge them as insane or unreasonable to handle in a comfortable environment.

Sincerely, Dr Prower"

"Dr. Prower,

A business email is no place for petty arguments, Dr. Prower. Is this what you call professionalism? I manage my people the way I do for a good reason. If we should find ourselves overwhelmed, I need to ensure that we have enough extra hands to cover any time gaps. This is how I've always managed my timetables, and as long as I have say, I like to keep it that way.

We remove many patients from their current situation because they can become a danger to themselves and others. I admit, you have been vigilant, and have never put others in harm's way before, but doing so yourself is just as much a violation of our standards as it would be for anyone else. As long as you keep your death wishes from harming the reputation of our own, then you are free to do as you please.

And another thing, doctor, just being former classmates does not put us on a first name basis. You will refer to me as Dr. Stone from now on.

Sincerely, Dr. Stone."

"Dr. Stone,

I believe that may be outside the scope of your authority, _Setton_. Regardless, your unwillingness to cooperate under these reasonable circumstances will reflect poorly on you when I approach the board. We need flexibility if we are to handle all of our cases appropriately. Your stubbornness is going to cost us more time and clients than anything else.

Putting yourself in another person's shoes isn't a death wish. While some clients can be a real threat, some of us are only our own worst enemies.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower

P.S. You never change for anyone or anything, do you?"

He felt the pencil that he wasn't aware he had been juggling, snap between his fingers. He never once had asked for time off, or for even one unreasonable schedule change before. It disgusted him that someone so stuck in their own little world, like Setton the pigheaded wolf, would have any say over scheduling in the first place.

"I'd like to huff and puff his pretty HOA lot down, and his mangy little cat too." He seethed, trying to avoid recalling the time he had dinner with his snooty former classmate's friends; a group, in Miles' somewhat clouded opinion, as utterly stuck up as Setton was. Rude insults about Sonic's haircut and attire, and a scratch from their ill-behaved stray on Amy's hand were just some of the many "highlights" of that awful day. It had been his chance to be a part of something he wanted no part of.

In reality, he was just too frustrated to think clearly. Somehow, merely thinking about meeting with Ms. Kinglas again was putting him on edge. It wasn't the most horrifying case he had ever had, not by a long shot, nor was all that awkward. Over his short time in the field, he had been threatened, hit on, attacked, stalked and so much more. It failed to make sense why this relatively normal client would bother him so.

"Time to go." He more or less ordered himself, trying his best to stop shaking in anticipation. His self-management almost worked. That is, up to the point where he dropped his keys, and then his phone; he broke it's fragile screen as soon as it came underfoot.

"Aw, JE-ehh... Son of a big bald Bengal tiger's baggy britches!" He said, struggling not to say more, or worse. He picked up the flickering necessity with a sigh "What the heck's the matter with me?"

L

*Four weeks ago*

L

Ms. Kinglas had agreed to finish their discussion in a more open, but less formal place of meeting: A park, and not even Station Square's famous Jackalson Mills Circle. Instead, she chose the rather quaint Zephyr's Gallery Park; a quiet place despite being a fairly popular hangout for teens.

He found her not too far from the street bordering the local library, sitting rigidly and in a fairly upright position. Eyes barely darting over to meet his, her evasiveness made her seem all the more uncomfortable. Rude as her behavior was, knowing he wasn't the only one put off by their meeting allowed Miles to relax a bit. It gave him the courage to offer an awkward wave, and for her to reply with slight smile and nod.

"Finally, a reaction." He thought, trying to hide a silly proud smirk.

Formally enough, before he sat down, he verbally welcomed and shook her hand. Tension seemed to ease as she replied "Good to see you again, Dr. Prower." This was enough to take the invitation and sit, keeping an extra person's length between them.

Not one to forget the details, Miles recalled their last conversation with fair clarity. He knew that they had to get down to business, but nevertheless wanted to ensure Lucy had readied herself. Admittedly, these sessions somewhat informal, and were not based upon scripted progress or therapy. He knew stricter diagnosis would come in the aftermath; her history came first, and he was ready to listen if she was ready to speak.

With a bit of gentle prodding and a fairly out-in-the-open reminder, he eventually had her back on track "We can start whenever you're ready."

"Mm, like I told you before, Dr. Prower, my parents were highly superstitious. Not even religious, per se, but very fond of their traditions." Recalling something, evidently a positive memory, Lucy went on "The strange thing is, my grandfather, Chun-Nun born on my mother's side and philosophically versed, said quite the opposite about my birth: He would tell me that I was a gift to my family. He said I was "filled with a treasure more valuable than earthly gains: A Child of Wisdom". He tried to diminish my family's paranoia, but the Garden's curse saw to him first."

Taking notes inside his relatively well prepared mind palace, Miles broke the short silence "Ms. Kinglas, I'm sorry for your loss."

If her shivering body language failed to tip him off, her normally cold eyes now glimmering in the soft sunlight certainly had "It was absurd." She hissed, despising her recollection with jagged sincerity "Grandfather Bai had been suffering from cardiomyopathy for several years. He was already on a downward spiral by the time I first recall meeting him. Nevertheless, paranoia and misfortune, for my family they seemed to come in pairs."

"Hmm, multiple unexpected deaths in the family." Miles commented under his breath, quiet enough that Lucy hadn't heard him, before addressing her again "Is there anything else, Ms. Kinglas?"

Whether by fast recovery, or by an erratic shift in behavior, Lucy answered calmly "No, but I will say that my grandfather was one of last people to both understand and respect me." Turning towards Miles with a sharp look, Lucy suddenly directed a question towards the patient doctor "I suppose you know the rest, don't you doctor?"

Confused, not only by her suddenly inquiry, but of her meaning as well, Miles replied with open palmed gesture "I'm afraid I don't, Ms. Kinglas. Would you like to explain?"

Closing her eyes with a longer sigh, Lucy shook her head once and said "I should be more clear: You know what it's like to abandoned by someone, I suppose?"

Now knowing exactly what she meant, but wanting to keep the conversation going in a productive direction, Miles answered with his own question "You were abandoned by your parents, Ms. Kinglas?"

"Weren't we all?" She retorted, almost too quickly, but passively "You can't expect me to believe you were simply adopted into the custody of a hyperactive blue hedgehog at the permission of your loving parents?"

Cold as frostbitten daggers in January. Miles would have certainly felt the bitter burn of her words, had he more of relationship with his parents to begin with "I can't say I was raised by anyone but Sonic, as you already seem to know." He realized lying or distracting her from his past would be pointless, but he only humored her digging so much "Ms. Kinglas, who were your caregivers growing up?"

Noticing he had both answered and dodged parts of her question, she dropped her point and went on "From what I can remember? Very few people. You may not realize it now, Dr. Prower, but you and I are very durable beings. Things that could, or should, kill your average mobian or human may or may not affect us at all. Though I find it hard to recall much of anything, since being near death leaves your mind in a hazy blur." Seemingly determined to have him involved in the conversation, Lucy once again looked his way and said "Surely, in the danger you've seen as a mere child, you can attest to this. Were there not times you seemed formidable against, or even incapable of dying?"

As much as tried not to be, he was intrigued by her question. Miles truly thought long and hard, before saying "I can say I count myself lucky. Sonic and I have seen dangers not many have, or should ever have to. One could even call my involvement a form of abuse on his part." Tails laughed, but caught himself, having seen his past in a different light. Sonic, even at Tails' urging, had actually allowed a child to risk his life. Simply knowing how capable and smart Tails was should not have been enough for Sonic; he should not have allowed a young fox to participate in his fight with an robot obsessed, imperialistic maniac.

At the same time, he recalled the times Sonic tucked him in at night, read him stories to chase away imaginary monsters. He also remembered how hard Sonic actually tried to keep Tails out of his fight against Eggman. No, it was not Sonic's fault. He hadn't been using Tails and his natural abilities. Certainly, Sonic was not the kind of person to do such a thing.

"Dr. Prower? Miles?" Lucy, in a memory lane diverting motion, had put a hand on the entranced doctor's shoulder.

Miles, embarrassed that he had trailed off, waved off her concerns. It oddly took him a full minute to realize she still had her hand his shoulder. Strange as it was, the motion did not bother him at all. So normal and comforting, so much so that only his lack of reaction scared him at all. It was like being comforted by an old friend.

Afraid, Miles nevertheless calmly brushed her hand aside, replying "I'm sorry, Ms. Kinglas." His apology was understandable, but unnecessary, so he urged her to continue "If possible, how much can you remember from the time you spent alone?"

Retracting her hand, Lucy paused a moment to recall, but seemed to struggle with the question. Not emotionally, but rather seemed to have a hard time remembering anything at all "I wish I could, but I can't. I don't..." She settled, her memory failing her completely.

Dazed, but not lost of his perceptiveness, Miles offered an easing smile and said "We can stop here, Lucy. Give yourself a chance to relax, and we will continue this discussion later."

He kept himself under control, but deep down he was afraid to resurface more damaging, even hidden, memories too swiftly. Although, selfishly, he gratefully breathed an internal sigh of rich relief when he saw her agree.

Truth be told, Miles realized that even he had things to recall and consider before their next session.

-l-

End of Chapter 3

-l-

Until next time.


End file.
